


Is It Pathetic (That I Miss You So)

by orphan_account



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Nathan just really misses Tyson ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22050175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Toronto isn't easy. I mean, the team's cool and I love being in Canada, but Denver is like home. You're home," he pauses and Nathan thinks that maybe they're both really going to cry tonight over a shitty FaceTime connection.Or: Nathan and Tyson are finding out that this long-distance thing is harder than they thought.
Relationships: Tyson Barrie/Nathan MacKinnon
Kudos: 44





	Is It Pathetic (That I Miss You So)

He misses him. Like _really_ misses him. In that way that makes his heart actually ache when he thinks about his boyfriend for too long. In that way that makes it hard to breathe when he rolls over in his bed only for his hand to fall onto the cool sheets next to him, empty and untouched. Nathan thought it would get easier with time to be without Tyson. That he'd eventually stop making passes during practice to a player who wasn't there, that his chest wouldn't seize up anytime anyone so much as name dropped the Leafs or mentioned Toronto. But after 3 months of being apart, he thinks it hurts more to see Tyson maybe once a month for barely 24 hours than not at all.

He rolls over in his bed and stares at the clock sitting on his nightstand. He manages to make out the harsh red letters that read _1:43am _ through his half-shut eyes. He groans, bringing the palms of his hands up to press against his eyelids wishing the pressure would relieve whatever thoughts were currently taking up residence in his brain.

It was manageable during the day, to pretend like nothing had changed. Between morning skates, games, and travelling he found it hard to even focus on anything outside of playing hockey. It was the in between days that were the hardest. The day or two off before another road trip. The nights where he hadn't exhausted himself enough from practice to just pass out right away. Nights like these where he struggled to sleep were becoming all too common.

He can feel a headache blooming behind his eyes, from the lack of sleep or from his pathetic separation anxiety? He isn't sure. He really can't help but think that, yeah, it probably is pathetic to miss someone so much after 3 months when you've at least seen them like a handful of times in that time period, but whatever braincells he may actually have left, aren't willing to help him out or listen to reason.

He opens both eyes fully, all hope of a good night's sleep abandoned, and looks back to his nightstand where his phone lays charging, mocking him really. He _could_ call Tyson. The other man doesn't ever put his phone on silent. Besides, their game ended late, so they didn't get to call, and Tyson doesn't have a game today. His body makes the decision before his brain can really catch up to confirm it, as his fingers reach to unplug his phone. He chews his bottom lip between his teeth as he hears his phone ringing, waiting for Tyson to pick up. It takes longer than usual for the other man to answer, but Nathan just chalks that up to it being nearly 4 in the morning in Toronto.

"Hmm, Nate?" he finally hears from the other side of the line as a wave of relief washes over his body, his tensed muscles relaxing against the mattress for the first time that night.

"Babe," Nathan sighs out, not quite sure what exactly it is he wants to say. He hears some rustling from the other side of the line and then hears an amused snort.

"Nate, it's almost 4am. You forget about time zones again?" Tyson chirps. He can practically see the smile plastered on his boyfriend's face even without video chat turned on.

"Nah," he laughs quietly, "I just... couldn't sleep." He confesses, which earns him a steady hum. Neither of them speaks for nearly a minute, and Nathan begins to wonder if Tyson may have fallen asleep (it wouldn't be the first time). He begins drumming his fingers on the mattress anxiously, unable to break the silence himself.

Eventually, he hears some more shuffling over the phone and then, "it was nice seeing you last week. It was nice being back in Denver."

"Yeah," he whispers, then adds, "same" because he's an idiot probably. Definitely. He awaits the chirp that's sure to follow concerning his 'stellar language skills' as Tyson likes to put it, but nothing comes. Instead, another bout of silence before Tyson asks him calmly, "Nate, are you ok?" He hates that he makes him worry like this when Tyson has his own set of issues to worry about in Toronto. New city, new team, new plays to learn. And here Nathan is at 4 O' fucking clock in the morning Eastern Standard Time calling him because he's, what? Lonely? Sad?

"It's nothing Tys. Sorry I called," this surprisingly earns him a chuckle.

"You know you're a terrible liar, eh?" The request to turn on video call pops up on his phone and he scrambles up in his bed to turn on the lamp before accepting it. Tyson's poorly lit face pops up on his screen, lips turned up in a smirk despite the evident exhaustion in his eyes. "Here, now you can at least try lying to my face." He attempts to smile at the heckle, he really does, but he just feels so stupid right now, it's unbelievable.

"It's..." The other man raises an eyebrow at him, practically daring him to say 'it's nothing' again. He swallows and diverts his eyes away from the screen to the wall in front of him. "I just... I miss you, T."

"Nate," Tyson replies softly, snapping his attention back to the phone. "I miss you too." And apparently that confession is all it takes for him to just spill whatever emotions he had kept pent up inside of him. He feels his mouth moving before he even has a chance to properly formulate his thoughts.

"It, like, fucking hurts T," he starts, "Like I know it's normal to miss someone but I /really/ miss you. It's, like, I should be happy to see you, right? When we play against each other, and I am! I am, but, it hurts so much more the next day when I wake up and you're not there and - fuck," he can feel the heat stinging behind his eyes, refusing to let any tears spill because he's already embarrassing himself as is. "I... just wish I could see you more," he finishes lamely, voice small and quiet, not sure he can say anything else without absolutely losing it. He can feel his boyfriend watching him through the screen and squeezes his eyes closed again, waiting.

"I love you," Tyson states after a while, his voice warm and affirming, because of course the other man is emotionally competent. "It hurts for me too, ya know?" He continues quietly, “Toronto isn't easy. I mean, the team's cool and I love being in Canada, but Denver is like home. You're home," he pauses and Nathan thinks that maybe they're both really going to cry tonight over a shitty FaceTime connection until Tyson lets out a small laugh and adds, "Plus, I miss your bad chirps, and awful cooking, and greasy hair, and-"

"Okay, stop," he honest to God whines because of course he spills his guts to Tyson and gets validated and roasted at the same time. "You're terrible."

"And somehow you miss me," he jokes, "but thanks, for telling me that," he adds seriously. "I'm really looking forward to spending Christmas with you." Three whole days with Tyson sounds like the best thing in the world to him right now. It's only 2 weeks away, but he wishes it would come sooner. "Do you believe in us?" His boyfriend asks suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Uh," he stutters out because it's past 2am and his brain has given up on functioning correctly. "Yeah, of course I do," he finally answers, eyebrows pulling together in confusion.

"Good. Because if we both think it's going to work then it will. I mean, not even being in the same division sucks, but at least we have all of off season together. Nate, it'll work," he ends reassuringly, and Nathan wants to believe they'll make it, he really does. He wants to believe they can do this long-distance thing without it hurting so much. Without him wondering if Tyson will eventually get tired of not having him close by. "Stop thinking so much, Nate. You'll end up hurting yourself."

"Asshole," he retorts, no heat behind his words. Tyson's eyes light up and he smiles, like genuinely smiles at him like he does when they're together, and Nate is holding onto him so long they're both late to whatever after game get together is going on that night.

"Mm, I'm tired and we do have morning skate in like 5 hours, babe." He knows that these calls have their limits, that they're both busy, that their schedules are just too different now. "We'll call after your skate today, ok? I have the afternoon free."

Nathan nods, "Yeah, that'd be great. I have to catch you up on all the dumb stuff Josty and Compy have been doing anyway."

Tyson snorts, "oh yeah? No surprise that the lesser Tyson is being a troublemaker." That comment makes Nathan laugh harder than he has in a couple of days. "Miss your laugh," his boyfriend throws in after he's quieted down. Nathan expects to feel the twinge of pain that's become a seemingly permanent resident in his chest upon hearing those words, but instead he feels warm and content and his mind seems clearer than it has been all night.

"Love you, go to sleep, T," he whispers.

"I feel like I should be saying that to you," Tyson mumbles, "I hope you sleep better, Nate. Good night, love you."

"Good night," he replies as the line goes dead and he's left alone again. He plugs his phone back in, turns off the lamp, and attempts to get comfortable under the covers. The headache that had previously threatened to come on has receded and the aching in his chest is dull now. He thinks of Tyson, and Christmas, and how Tyson believes in them. He thinks about the way he makes him laugh, the way Tyson fits in his arms, the way Tyson looks at him when he's said something particularly thoughtful or stupid. He thinks about how Tyson misses him too and it helps, he thinks, just to know he's not alone.


End file.
